


she wants to dance like uma thurman and i cant get you out of my head

by possumsrus



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: Clubbing, Dancing, How Do I Tag, Jealousy, M/M, Manipulation, Short, Slight Violence, is something that can be so personal :), possessive roman, slight gore mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25943659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possumsrus/pseuds/possumsrus
Summary: Roman suggests that Victor take a night off and almost immediately regrets it.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz
Comments: 4
Kudos: 84





	she wants to dance like uma thurman and i cant get you out of my head

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from Uma Thurman by Fall Out Boy.
> 
> i don't really know what this is, but y'know...

“You always work so hard, Mr. Zsasz, why don’t you take a night off. Relax!”

Those were Roman Sionis’ words earlier in the evening when he had, rather unceremoniously, kicked Victor Zsasz off of guard duty for the night. Now, Victor slunk down onto the club floor, considering that was probably where his boss expected him to be. Besides, even if he was off duty, Victor would rather stay close, in case Roman needed him (which was often). Despite his position near the floor, the crowd of undulating bodies served only to dissuade him. The thumping music seemed to be their only guide. He would much prefer the music of shredding guts or shattering bones under his own hands, but Victor would do what he could. And what he could do was stand here for the night, pretending to have a good time and casting the odd apprehensive glance back towards his boss’ table, until he could go back to normal. Surely, no one would be stupid enough to interrupt one of Gotham’s most wanted when he was so clearly-

A gentle, almost tentative hello shook Victor from his thoughts. He jerked his head back around to see a young woman standing in front of him, looking up at him from under mousy brown bangs. She was fidgeting with the edge of her flowy, floral dress. It was the kind of fabric that Victor could see Roman wearing in the form of one of those ridiculous fancy button-downs that he always left buttoned-down just low enough to catch his henchman’s ever-hungry eyes. Speaking of Roman, when he glanced back to see if his boss had noticed the stranger insert herself in the assassin’s space and caught his almost possessive pout, Victor had a terrible idea.

“I was just wondering if, well, if you-” she stuttered, clearly intimidated by Victor’s dark gaze.

“You were wonderin’ what?” the killer asked, giving her a sharp smile wide enough to showcase his gold teeth as they glinted under the revolving club lights.

“You seemed so alone over here,” she confessed, shyly, “I thought maybe you’d like to dance…”

“Sure,” he said, noting the beaming smile she gave in response. 

It might almost be sad (if Victor was anyone else who might’ve given a shit) how excited she was getting, only to have her hopes crushed by being used. As she wrapped a hand around his scarred wrist to tug him fully onto the floor, Victor cast another glance back at Roman to see the jealousy in his eyes. He was clearly fuming, though it was pretty well hidden from the mingling club goers around them. Victor could always tell, a skill he prided himself in.

Then her body was pressed up against him, and Victor’s plan wasn’t working out how he had hoped. She was so soft, in all the wrong places and ways, and it almost didn’t seem worth enduring for the attention he craved. Then he looked up at Roman for the third time.

He was striding purposefully over towards them, grin ticked upwards a tad too far to be friendly. Victor felt that familiar heat spread through him as he watched his boss approach, fighting down a similar sadistic smile.

“Mr. Zsasz!” Roman said, faux cheeriness dripping off of him, “Can we have a word?”

Foregoing the assassin’s response, his boss simply grabbed his wrist (and it was infinitely better than the way the discarded girl had before, with those stupid monogrammed gloves barely blocking the angry biting of Roman’s fingers into his flesh) and dragged him off. Victor gave a smug smile over his shoulder, wondering if she would put two and two together. Either way, she did look adequately put out. 

Once they had found the sufficiently secluded hallway away from prying eyes Roman had been looking for, he spun Victor to face him, pressing his henchman’s back against the wall. They were so close that Victor could almost feel their breath mingling in the cool, air-conditioned air. 

“What was that?” Roman growled, still clutching Victor’s wrist.

“I thought you said to relax,” Victor said, trying to cover up the smug smile forcing its way towards the surface with an innocent look.

“Not that much,” Roman responded, scoffing.

“I think,” Victor said, relaxing his posture slightly and meeting his boss’ eyes, “you’re jealous.”

“Of you? Please, I could care less about whoever that stupid bitch was.”

“Of her.”

“I don’t compete for your attention,” Roman responded, and the venom in his voice was its own answer.

“No, you don’t,” Victor admitted, “I’m right here.”

“Shut up, you sappy fuck,” Roman said, lacing a gloved hand across the back of Victor’s neck and practically crashing their mouths together.

Fucking finally, Victor thought.


End file.
